Pest Control in a Marediterranean Climate
Beware of Gratuitous Tongue Twisters
The cove stretched out below Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, salt water glittering in the warm sunshine. A light breeze blew out towards the ocean from the plantation that hugged the coast, thousands of laurel trees rising in row beyond row, sheltering enclosed fields of hay and vegetables. Somewhere above them, among the fluffy clouds, lay the city of Las Pegasus.
“So lemme get this straight,” Rainbow Dash said, looking at the earth pony in the sarong beside her. “The cutie map sent us out here because of a bug problem? And where exactly is here, anyway?”
“Well, this here is the Baby Bay plantation,” the earth pony said. “It’s named after the cove out there, which as y’know opens out into Mama Bay. It was first explored by the renowned naturalist, Abe Baobab, old A. B. we call him, who found the trees that give us our livin’.” He waved a hoof down from the ridge at the orchard below. “If you found a bay leaf in your soup, it probably came from one of those trees down there.”
The farmer (his name was Riviera Season) walked down the path leading from the headland ridge into the plantation proper. Fluttershy followed on hoof, while Rainbow Dash followed, hovering along a ponylength above the dirt track. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen trees exactly like this,” Fluttershy said. “They, um, seem to be happy trees. But a little, um, small.”
“We try to keep ‘em that way,” Riviera agreed. “It’s tough, since it sometimes hybridizes with the species that grows up on the top of the ridge. Th’ leaves of the greater Baby Bay bay are poisonous, though, so we try to keep those down.”
“Is that what this is called?” Rainbow Dash asked, squinting at a stubby tree next to her. “Not so great for a greater Baby Bay bay… if I said that right.”
“No, that one’s not a greater,” Riviera said. “As I said, old A. B. discovered it, and he described it in his botanical journal. It only grows right here on the shores of the cove, y’see, so it’s named for it. A. B.’s baby Baby Bay bay, that’s the official name for it.”
Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash looked at each other. “I don’t think I can say that,” Fluttershy said.
“And I’m not even gonna try,” Rainbow Dash added. “Look, normally we get sent out to help ponies solve their friendship problems, you know?”
“And occasionally to fight monsters,” Fluttershy added quietly.
“Yeah, but usually just ponies and friendship problems,” Rainbow Dash said. “You sure you aren’t having a feud or something? Fluttershy’s good at ending feuds.”
“I’d rather help with the bugs,” Fluttershy whispered, blushing.
“Can’t say as we are,” Riviera shrugged. “Got five families on this plantation, and we get on swell. Most of ‘em are over in th’ next valley right now, though, workin’ on that bug problem.”
“Fine,” Rainbow Dash huffed. “So what is the bug problem, exactly?”
“Locusts,” Riviera said. “They’re swarmin’ in the next valley inland, and some of their scouts are comin’ over the ridge. They don’t much like bay laurel, but they’ll eat it… and once they get into the old plantation at our more conventional crops, well… then they’ll go to town. And we don’t have a clue how to stop it this time.”
“This time?” Fluttershy asked.
“Well, yeah,” said Riviera. “Pest control and environmental balance is our single biggest problem on Baby Bay. Most of the work we do is to keep pests out and protect our local ecosystem.”
“What’s the big deal?” Rainbow Dash asked. “So we kill a few bugs, like this one here.” She reared a hoof back to crush a nearby bottle-shaped inset.
“DON’T HURT THAT BUG!!” Riviera shouted, loud enough to bowl Dash over in midair. “That’s no locust! We wanna keep that one!”
“What?” Rainbow Dash asked, recovering herself. “A bug’s a bug, right?”
“Shame on you, Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy said, reaching a hoof down to the insect, which crawled onto it and wiggled its feelers at her. “Some bugs are very beneficial, like ladybugs and bees. What kind of bug is this one, Mr. Season?”
“That there,” Riviera said, “that is A. B.’s Baby Bay bay weevil.”
Fluttershy yanked her hoof back, leaving the bug to tumble back onto the dirt, where it scurried away into the underbrush. “W-w-weevil?” she asked in disgust. “But weevils are pests! They destroy whole crops!”
“That’s as may be,” Riviera said, “but the Baby Bay bay weevil is a lot less destructive and more useful than any insect you can name, at least to us. They eat Baby Bay bay leaves, yeah- the grubs do, I mean- but the grubs eat nothin’ else, and they prefer the greater Baby Bay bay and its hybrids to pure-strain baby Baby Bay bays. Makes it real easy to weed out unwanted saplings.
“And the adults pollinate the laurels and attack other insects that might eat our other crops. We have to hire in bee hives for pollination time, but the rest of the time those weevils are the only kind of insect in the cove. And we go to a whole lot of trouble to keep it that way. Losin’ some leaves or the occasional tree is a small price to pay, if you stop to think about it.”
Fluttershy blinked. “But that can’t be right,” she said. “What about the birds?”
“They sure do love ‘em a plump weevil grub, or even an adult weevil,” Riviera said. “And the shallow-water fish sometimes get a weevil snack. We have a pretty good fishery here, y’know, all fat and happy on weevils.”
“But… but… but you can’t have- I mean-“ Fluttershy rose a short way into the air on her wings, spreading her hooves wide to indicate the whole plantation. “The cove must be two or three miles wide! And it’s a mile to the ridge inland! You can’t have a functional ecosystem that size with only a single insect!”
“’Course you can!” Riviera insisted. “For is it not written: sufficient to the bay is the weevil thereof?”
Author's Note
This one took a couple of days to percolate. I've had the pun at the end in my mind for years with no real use for it, but I finally figured out how to present it during A-Kon 2019, right down to the "ba ba ba".
Pest Control in a Marediterranean Climate
Author's Note
This is a supplemental to the original feghoot, as a response to Raugos coming up with not one but two BETTER ending lines for my own story...
Shenanigans Ensue
"So, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash asked, watching as her friend carefully dribbled honey out of a large jar onto the dirt, "what does any of this have to do with getting that Oregano Joe guy to stop luring those locusts to Riviera's plantation?"
"It's very simple, Rainbow," Fluttershy murmured in a matter-of-fact way. "The bay weevils hate all other insects and attack them on sight, yes?"
"That's what Riviera told us."
"So what do you think will happen if we gathered up all the weevils in the bay and took them to the locusts?"
"The locusts would probably get their butts kicked," Dash admitted. "But how are we going to do that? And what does that have to do with wasting food?"
"Oh, I'm not wasting food," Fluttershy said. "I'm making a path that will bring every weevil running. And they'll follow that path right to the villain's lair."
Rainbow pointed to the jar. "You're using that to make a path?"
"Well, yes," Fluttershy said. "Everypony knows that honey is the route of all weevils."
"Riiiiiiight," Rainbow Dash said, rolling her eyes. "Well, you keep on that. I'm gonna go take a nap."
"You know, you could help," Fluttershy insisted.
"Nah," Dash said. "This'll go better without me. In fact, you probably could stop doing what you're doing, too. After all, all that is necessary for the triumph of weevil is for good mares to do nothing."
Oregano Joe whimpered where he lay on the jungle floor. He was covered in honey, and also in weevils. Among the other things he was learning, at that particular moment, is that a single weevil growling is inaudible, but thousands of weevils growling makes a distinct sound that surpasses the most ferocious tiger in terror.
"So here's the deal," Rainbow Dash declared, hovering well out of reach of the bug-encrusted pony. "Once you've confessed everything to the constable, we'll call our little friends off. If you don't..."
"... well, they really hate other bugs," Fluttershy continued. "And they tell me you smell a lot like a locust for a pony."
"I'll confess! I'll confess!" Oregano Joe begged. "My scheme to put the plantation out of business so my oregano crops would sell for double price! My baiting the locusts! All of it! Just get these things off of me!"
"I have to hand it to ya, Fluttershy," Dash said, "this was a great idea. How did you come up with it?"
"Oh, it was obvious," Fluttershy admitted, blushing. "I just remembered an old saying: weevil to he who evil thinks."
